


The Sub Club

by RainbowArches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Antoine Triplett Lives, Dom Akela, Dom Bobbi, Dom Mack, Dom Melinda, Dom Sam, Dom Steve, Dom/Sub AU, I Believe in Jasper Sitwell, Mentions spanking, Multi, Sub Clint, Sub Fitz, Sub Jasper, Sub Jemma, Sub Maria, Sub Natasha, Sub Nick, Sub Phil, Sub Sharon, Switch Antoine Triplett, Switch Skye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who needs doms? Not us. Honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Sort of Tapered Off

Jasper caved first. Everyone knew he’d get snatched up right away, the adorable bastard, and he’d welcome it. He was embarrassed but everyone assured him that they were happy for him, they weren’t disappointed. Jasper had always been a little traditional; it wasn’t his fault he got more fulfilment with a dom than on his own or with another sub. Which wasn’t to say he wasn’t happy with Sharon, he hastened to needlessly assure everybody. Their relationship was very fulfilling, but they wanted more than they could give each other. That’s where Akela came in, and that’s what surprised everybody. Akela struck everyone as a lone wolf, serious, independent, and a little impatient. She didn’t seem like she’d want to be responsible for a couple of subs, let alone these two specifically. No one thought Akela was the cuddly, dorky type that Jasper and Sharon preferred, to which Jasper and Sharon replied, “You obviously haven’t spent a lot of time with her.”

Phil would admit to being jealous. Akela was his protégé. She probably spent more time with him than with Jasper and Sharon, but she never talked to _him_ about Star Trek or Game of Thrones. Every time he brought it up she gave him a Melinda May look and ignored him. Of course, they were in the middle of work when that happened, so maybe he should applaud her focus and stop trying to distract her. Really, though, he was happy for all of them. He was glad that Akela had found people she could connect with on such an intimate level.

Akela was just happy to have them both in her life. She was pleased that they wanted her to be a part of their life. She knew people thought she was standoffish, that she didn’t have anything to give. That wasn’t true. She was scared, sure. She constantly worried that they’d change their minds, that she’d fail them, that she couldn’t provide them with everything they needed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try.

Jasper had concerns of his own, namely that they’d lose interest in him. They assured him that they loved him, that he was the only one who ever noticed the generational gap, that it was a stupid thing to be worried about. He believed them but his concern still snuck up on him from time to time.

Sharon had no concerns. She was the one who had to get them to talk when something was bothering them, and she was the one who had to put them at ease.

“Jasper, I promise you, you’re not the reason we aren’t wearing her collars yet. She’s never done this before, remember? She’s nervous. We’ll go as slow as she wants. This is never anything you should rush into.”

“You don’t have to worry about us, Akela. We can take care of ourselves when you’re not here and you do a good job taking care of us when you are here. You’re doing just fine. We trust you.”

Sharon thought of herself as the glue. At least until Akela disappeared. Then she and Jasper fell apart and couldn’t put each other back together. Victoria stepped in, offered them a shoulder to cry on, picked them up and got them functioning again, but they functioned separately. They forgot how to connect without Akela. They didn’t fight, but they didn’t talk, they didn’t touch, they didn’t do anything. Jasper moved back into his old apartment and they went back to being just colleagues.

Melinda was there to reassure Phil as much as he would let her. Rather than using this as a lesson in taking the opportunity while it’s there and cherishing the time they have with each other, he decided the moral was to push people away and not get close. His self-inflicted exile wouldn’t last long. It never did, when it came to Melinda.

 

“You guys are next.”

Maria gestured at Clint and Natasha, who were lounging on the loveseat in Nick’s office. They were usually in Nick's office; he had the most seats. It was where they got together to enjoy being uncollared. It started that way at least. Lately it had become the place where they check people off the list one by one. That sub's taken; that sub's taken. Aren't there any subs who don't want a dom? That's how this little club got started, though it was beginning to feel shaky.

Clint snorted. Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Everyone thinks I’m his dom,” she said.

Maria passed the bag of chips to Phil. “So?” she said, licking the salt off her fingers. “A sub can’t have two doms?”

Natasha wasn’t a dom, she just gave out dom vibes. She also didn’t feel the need to correct anyone who made that mistake. Clint and Phil were subs and proud of it. Maria and Nick were the only one who actively made people think they were doms. The others didn’t know what was funnier; the part where they tried or the part where they were extremely convincing. The two of them were adamant that they’d never let anyone collar them, and their friends believed them. They also wondered why the two of them didn’t just hook up already, to which they usually made exaggerated gagging noises.

“Phil and Melinda are next,” Nick argued. “I’m still not convinced they ever stopped.”

“We did stop and we’re not next,” Phil said with finality.

“It sure as hell won’t be us,” Clint said.

But it was.

 

While Phil was playing with his new sub girlfriend- an adorable talented young cellist named Audrey (“Okay, Phil. You win. We believe you. You and Melinda aren’t a thing”)- Nick was putting together the Avengers Initiative with fan-like fervour. He listened to Maria’s concerns with an open mind and took them into serious consideration the first three times, and then stopped listening to her input on the project completely, choosing instead to use Phil as his sounding board. He was going to make this happen, and thank God he did.

 

But maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should have listened to Maria. Maybe these were the wrong people, the wrong team. And why did he call them the Avengers? That was just asking for trouble. _This was never going to work if they didn’t have something to…_

No. He wasn’t going to blame himself. Maybe he should have taken Maria’s concerns more seriously but in the end it was the right decision. They were the right people, the right team. They just didn’t know it until too late.

He wasn’t going to blame Phil, either. The man did the right thing. It was stupidly heroic, but it worked, and Nick would never forget it. He was sure the Avengers would never forget it either.

No regrets. Ever. Just get on with things.

 

Steve opened the door first and knocked after. “Everything okay in here?”

Natasha looked up and silently beckoned him in. She was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. Clint was napping with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair gently.

Steve came in and perched beside her, facing her.

“How’s he holding up?”

“He’ll be fine. I’m looking after him.”

Steve nodded. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

He watched her with that earnest, serious expression she’d grown accustomed to over their brief acquaintanceship.

“I’m sorry about agent Coulson. Commander Hill told me you two worked with him quite a bit. He was a brave man.”

Natasha ducked her head to look at Clint’s face instead. “He would have been pleased to hear you say that.”

“I should have told him.”

“You couldn’t. But don’t worry. We’ve told him.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, and then put his hand on her knee. “Please, if you need anything, talk to me. I’d be happy to help.”

“We’ll be happy to take you up on that,” Clint said, not as asleep as they’d thought. He opened his eyes and offered his hand, matching Steve’s serious expression.

Steve smiled and took his hand.

Eventually they did take him up on his offer. After all, would having a dom really be so bad? No, apparently not.

 

Phil was back at work, happy, healthy, chipper, more or less his usual self. Nick and Maria welcomed him back, asked Melinda to keep an eye on him, then went to Nick’s office and damn near cried in each other’s arms.

 

Steve, Clint and Natasha were eating lunch together in the cafeteria. None of them made their relationship public knowledge, but they didn’t try to hide it either. Even now that Clint and Natasha were wearing collars underneath the necks of their shirts. “Just fill out the damn paperwork already,” Maria said as she walked by.

 

Akela was back. Everyone made sure she stayed free. They didn’t think she was in a good mental state to start up with Sharon and Jasper again, but she did anyway, and it seemed to help. It took some stumbling along the way, but they took care of each other. They were each other’s support network. One day Jasper came into Nick’s office to report on the mission and to make some adjustments on his file. Nick gave him the paperwork for himself, Sharon and Akela to fill out and prayed for the best.

 

Nick and Bobbi had been friends for years. They flirted all the time and they loved going on missions where they pretended to be married, but it never went further because Bobbi was a dom who liked subs and Nick let her believe he was a dom.

But one day they were having coffee and getting silly, because even the most serious of badasses reverted to twelve-year-olds when they were with Bobbi. Nick didn’t remember what Bobbi had said that had him throwing sugar cubes at her, but that’s what he was doing.

“Fucking hell, Nick, stop it!” she said, but she was laughing as she tried to discretely dig sugar cubes out of her shirt. “I will spank you, I swear to God.”

“That’s never worked on me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. He had tried to pass it off as a joke, though he didn’t know why he said it at all. But he figured he might as well be out with it. They were friends, after all.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know pretty much every sub in the world has been spanked at least once.”

“Didn’t know you were a sub.”

“Well, now you do.”

She brushed the last of the sugar off her shirt and leaned forward, hands folded in front of her. “What does work on you?”

He shrugged. “It’s not my job to know that.”

“Can it be my job to find out?”

 

Maria was all alone now. Well, not really. It wasn’t like everyone stopped being her friends as soon as they got collared. Plus she was pretty sure Phil and Melinda weren’t back to their old stuff yet. But it was only a matter of time, and she hardly ever saw them anymore. Steve, Clint and Natasha were always busy, either with missions or with each other. Jasper, Sharon and Akela seemed to have themselves sorted out. Now even Nick’s been snatched up. She was happy for them, and really, she should have seen it coming. They could have got together years ago if Nick hadn’t insisted on putting up a front. But she couldn’t help but resent him a little. She always assumed they’d be lone subs together forever. Not forever. But she thought they'd have solidarity with each other a little longer. She missed the club. And to top it all off, Hydra happened.

 

There was one good thing that came out of it.

“Who the hell’s this guy?”

 

Maria dropped the front around Sam, gradually, to see how he responded to a sub in command, giving orders and demanding respect. He responded very well. It didn’t turn him on; he didn’t think she was being cute. He knew she was doing her job, doing it well, and deserved his respect and cooperation, so he gave it to her. When the danger had passed and they finally had a moment to themselves, he started flirting with her. She let him.

 

Phil took Sharon and Akela to where Jasper was recovering. There was no way he’d let them fall apart again. Jasper snickered when he noticed the collar around Phil’s neck.

“I knew it,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, everybody knew it. You win. Congratulations.”

And about time, too, he thought to himself.


	2. Collars

“Now you need to chop these up,” said Jasper.

Akela took the carrots from him and did as instructed. Cooking was the only time she allowed him to boss her around outside work, and even then he did so with deference. Not so much deference that he was afraid to correct her when she did something wrong, not anymore anyway. She wanted her subs to feel free to express any concerns they had, even if it was just about supper. But they had to use their words.

Akela glanced over at Sharon kneeling in the corner. Akela had put her there half an hour ago, having caught her snooping around in her coat pockets. She would have been harsher with Jasper; he couldn’t care less what was in her pockets, but he went from cheeky to cocky too fast, too often. Sharon _never_ gave her any problems, but that didn’t mean she could get away with anything.

She still wasn’t clear why Sharon acted out. Sharon didn’t seem clear on it either. Akela came into the apartment and Sharon was standing there with her hand caught in the cookie jar, or in this case clutching two leather collars that Akela was keeping hidden until she was sure she wanted to give them away. And she was sure. She decided that before she left for work, and confirmed it when she came home to find Sharon holding them.

She didn’t say anything, just took the collars back and snapped her fingers at the corner. Sharon had seen her do that with Jasper often enough; she knew what the command meant.

She was still going to collar them if that’s what they wanted, but she’d wait until after supper. At the moment she was afraid it might be construed as a reward or a punishment for bad behaviour.

“Come set the table,” she said to Sharon.

Sharon remained silent and solemn through most of the dinner, probably wondering if she would ever see those collars again. Akela didn’t exactly _want_ her to be wondering that; she hated punishing either of them. But anything that took minimal involvement on Akela’s part and got Sharon to think twice next time was a good thing.

Sharon was responsible for clearing the dishes this time. When she was done she instructed Jasper to get her coat. The three of them went to the living room. Akela sat on the couch; the other two knelt in front of her. She took out the collars.

“I know you two have been waiting very patiently for me to get to this point, and I’m finally there. I’m not going to make a big ceremony out of this. It you want my collar, speak now or forever hold your peace. Just remember you won’t get off so light if I ever catch you snooping around in my things again.”

“I want it,” said Jasper.

“I want it too,” Sharon said. “I promise I’ll be good.”

She smiled. “Good.” She fastened Jasper’s first, and then Sharon’s. “There. We’re all official now.”

 

“Do you have a limit?”

“Of what?” Steve asked.

“How much you can spend.”

“After all the effort I put into convincing you to wear one? Of course not. Pick whatever one you like.”

“He’s just trying to be considerate,” Natasha assured him as she examined a ruby collar. “I’ve been teaching him manners.”

“That’s my job. Please, don’t worry about money, Clint. I can afford it. Here; you like purple, don’t you? Look at this one.”

Clint looked interested until he saw the price. His eyes widened. Steve cut him off before he could say anything. “If you want it, just say so. I’ll buy it.”

Clint hesitated. “Natasha hasn’t picked hers yet.”

“When she does I’ll buy hers too. Don’t worry about it.”

Clint bit the inside of his cheek to keep from protesting further. He’d just hurt Steve’s feelings if he kept it up. He’d been complaining about never getting to spoil them; Stark always beat him to it. “Well… okay. Actually I kind of like that one.” He pointed to a black one with an amethyst.

“Nice.”

“I’ll have this one,” Natasha said, holding up the ruby one.

Steve beamed as he made the purchases. “Great. Now we can go home and do the scary commitment stuff.”

 

Bobbi wasn’t at all surprised to find Nick applying new bandages to his chest in her bathroom. She had believed he was dead, yes, but she wasn’t surprised that he proved her wrong. She was relieved. And mad. Mad from their fight and mad that he let her worry. But mostly she was just happy to see him. She took over bandaging him, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub while he knelt between her legs.

“You can’t retire just yet. Shield still needs you.”

That didn’t make any sense, but she trusted that it would eventually.

“Okay.”

“I understand why you feel the need to take in all these subs. I’m sorry I was a jackass. You can do what you want.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make things clear earlier. I’m sorry I let you go before we resolved everything.”

“Well we got away with it that time.”

“I’m not letting that happen again.” She finished patching him up and fished a slim silver chain from her pocket. “I may like to ‘adopt’ lots of subs, but I only give out one of these. It’s yours if you want it.” She held it up, letting it tangle from her fingertip.

“You know I’m not sticking around, right?”

“But you’re coming back, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well then?”

He stared longingly at the chain for a moment, prepared to say no, how could that possibly work, and didn’t. “Okay. I accept.”

 

Sam kept talking about how many of their friends were wearing or giving collars these days, and that soon they’d be the only ones who had yet to take the plunge. He tried to be subtle at first, but Maria didn’t give him a reaction so he became more obvious with his hints. Still nothing. She didn’t seem interested so he stopped trying. But she was Maria and everything had to be her idea.

They were in bed one night, reading, and Maria said, “I’d wear your collar if you wanted me to.”

Sam grinned at her and immediately started digging around in the bedside drawer. He came up with two clenched fists.

“Pick a hand, any hand.”

She tapped one.

“Try again.”

She tapped the other one.

“Nope.”

“Oh, come on.”

She tickle him until he dropped it, black stone on a ribbon. They settled down enough for him to clip it around her neck.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

 

It was a simple black collar, traditional in that it actually had a hook for a leash. Most didn’t anymore. She never used a real leash on Phil, but she thought he’d appreciate a hook for the metaphorical one. She’d been hanging on to it for years. He didn’t say it but she could see him thinking it; she was as sentimental as he was. But she was glad she kept it because it looked damn good on him.

“Does it fit okay?” she asked, fussing with it a little.

He moved her hands away gently and rested his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“It’s perfect.”


	3. The Bus, Briefly

“All I need is your collar and I’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Skye meant it as a joke, Trip was sure.  They were both switches. It was unusual two switches to take on a role full time, though it did happen. But Skye didn’t seem the type to want a collar and sub full time. Trip certainly didn’t want to be a full-time dom, which was why he’d never purchased a collar. He could, he supposed. If Skye wore his collar he could order her to be the dom whenever he wanted. It wouldn’t feel the same, though. And may not always be able to switch on demand, let alone want to.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s something to think about.”

“I guess.”

Skye was a cute sub, but a bratty one. She was cheeky and argumentative, but she was also sweet and affectionate. Trip was sure being her full-time dom would be rewarding. But Skye as a dom was assertive, protective, and gently. Trip adored that side of her and loved having it all to himself. The real problem here was that Trip couldn’t be full-time anything. He was pretty chill either way, but he got bored if he subbed for too long, and he got tired being in control all day. He needed someone who could take on both rolls.

He felt Skye’s head shift on his chest as she looked up at him. She poked the underside of his chin. “Hey. What’s wrong? You look stressed.”

“I don’t get stressed.”

“I don’t want to wear a collar.”

He wrapped his arms more snuggly around her middle. “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s something I’ve thought about, but not something I need. It was just a suggestion.”

“I don’t really like the idea of collars.”

“That’s totally fine. I don’t really like the idea of taking orders all the time.”

He laughed. “I know.”

 

Bobbi didn’t misjudge people often, but she misjudged Jemma. She was right about Jemma being a sub, and she right about her being smart and brave and talented, but she was not the baby bunny that she looked like. Jemma was careworn. She defied orders she knew were bad, she was assertive when she knew she was right, she was very work-oriented; a doctor and a Shield agent first and foremost. There may have been a time when Jemma trusted easily and was often openly affectionate, but not anymore, and Bobbie blamed Hydra for that.

It took a fair amount of work to get to this point, where Jemma could curl up in her lap and go to sleep. She’d been reluctant to kneel at first. But now, with gentle prodding and encouragement, she could trust Bobbi’s orders; trust that Bobbi loved her, that she would keep her safe. She even helped Jemma into sub-space once. She remained silent the whole time, but assured her after that she’d enjoyed it.

They’d established early on that this wouldn’t necessarily be a long-term commitment, especially since Bobbi had given her collar to Nick. Jemma said that was fine, that she preferred it that way. She hadn’t been lying either. But the more Bobbie thought about it, the guiltier she felt. She felt like she was abandoning Jemma, and she’d had enough of that.

 

He wasn’t stupid. He could see the way Fitz looked at him. The look that said, “Make a move already, slow-poke.” Mack wanted to, he really did. He just didn’t think it was a good idea yet. What if he forgot his safe word? What if this was really about Simmons? Not that Mack still needed to worry about either of those things; Fitz’s memory had improved a lot and he was starting to understand Simmons, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to take the risk yet, especially not when he had that _other_ mission to worry about. That would probably get in the way.

But soon. Mack would make a move soon. How could he not, with those eyes blinking adorably at him all day? With every impatient look Fitz sent him, Mack gave promising looks back. Looks that said, “Hold your horses, Turbo.”


End file.
